A Barrel of Millet Mush, a Bandit Camp, and a Bhaalspawn
by Blue-Inked Frost
Summary: The Child of Bhaal ignites chaos wherever they go. When Anqi infiltrates a bandit camp, he finds an already rioting band of gnolls and a barrel of millet mush, and his companions aren't exactly encouraging him to take the peaceful route out of there. Bhaalspawn/Dorn.


Written for Tiel for the Baldur's Gate Gift Exchange 2019. Anqi belongs to her! I saw the prompt for 'setting fire to a lair' and just ran with it.

—

What do you get when you cross a half-elf raised in a library, a renegade drow who serves the goddess of darkness, a human Red Wizard so egotistical he'd take a piss and claim credit for inventing liquid perfume, a quiet and competent dwarven mercenary, and an extremely gorgeous, intelligent, and vengeance-driven half-orc bonded to a demon?

Chaos, that's what you get.

"How strong you are, you pair of noble _rothe_! How I admire your mighty muscles!" Viconia smirked and tittered. Anqi couldn't blame her. He and Dorn no doubt looked truly ridiculous trying to carry the huge barrel of mashed millet between them. It was gnoll-size, too large for even Dorn to heft on his own, and weighed as much as if bloody Taurgosz Khosann had stuffed the barrel with bloody rocks instead of the meal he'd told the party.

Maybe the bloody bandit captain had stuffed his bloody barrel with particularly heavy bloody rocks. It could be his idea of a hilarious practical joke on the bandit newcomers.

Anqi pictured the humorless glare of the bandit captain: Taurgosz the tall and black-eyed, with flashing gold flecks on his teeth, flanked by his constant shadow and sidekick, a younger man only known as Raemon. Anqi speculated the two were lovers, but it was hard to tell.

Pursued by bounty notices up and down the Sword Coast, Anqi and his companions had gone to the bandit camp for answers. The bandits served as a waystation for the iron poison sweeping the Sword Coast. Anqi, whose deceptively innocent face and recently selected band of companions didn't bear too much resemblance to the desperados on certain bounty notices, had talked himself into the bandits as a new recruit. None of the gruntwork they'd done so far brought them any closer to finding who funded the bandits, and Anqi was starting to conclude that none of the bandits themselves knew.

Anqi and Dorn paused their barrel in front of the sealed cave. Anqi couldn't see it for himself with the bloody barrel in the way, but he knew that cave was fitted with an oak door two feet deep and nailed in place.

Talk about troop discipline.

The gnoll band had misbehaved by eating a consignment of bandit captives intended to be sent as slaves further up the chain, so Khosann's Black Talons had locked them up to clear their heads.

Anqi shifted his feet impatiently while Kagain struggled with the door. He bet himself that he could've got it open in half the time compared to the dwarf. He'd have preferred Kagain to be the one carrying this barrel, too, but with Dorn on the other end the thing would have turned to comedy of the worst sort. And besides, pride pricked at Anqi and demanded he show himself to Dorn as an equal, who would not falter at a little bit of ludicrously heavy weight.

"Give up." It seemed Dorn spoke from inside his head, now, carrying the lines of dialogue Anqi assigned to imaginary-Dorn. "Only a fool pretends to strength he doesn't have."

"Good joke, Dorn. Watch me laugh. Oh, wait, the barrel's in the way." Anqi stood as high as he could. "I promise you, I've excellent endurance."

And he would like the chance to show his endurance to Dorn Il-Khan in another context, Anqi thought. A bed seemed so dull and cliched. Back of some stables? Top of an isolated tower? Middle of a pirate ship? Just call him a romantic already, and be done with it. He'd like to stand face to face with Dorn somehow alone together on a rocking ship, no armour or weapons or a stitch of clothing between them, pitch forward against that powerful chest and - _fuck_ -

The brief fantasy had kept him going long enough for that bloody dwarf to finally open the bloody door.

Anqi and Dorn started quickly. They were supposed to just hand over the food to the nearest gnoll and slam the door as soon as they could, let the gnolls continue to stew. But it was completely silent inside.

They staggered through an empty cave and let the barrel drop on a rough mound in the middle of it. The cave walls were bare and damp, with mossy fronds on them stirring with the slightest breath of wind from the outside. It was as creepy as a cute puppy in the Nine Hells. Almost as creepy as that tiny butter-wouldn't-melt-in-his-mouth little blonde boy, Albert ... and his adorable little giant slavering hellhound pet. Anqi shuddered at an unwanted memory.

_So the gnolls escaped through the secret entrance that doubtless they had all along_, Anqi thought, looking at the empty space. It was a well known principle of adventuring that everywhere had a secret entrance, or at least a well known principle of adventuring stories. _Guess we bring the bad news back to Khosann and hope he doesn't have a shoot-the-messenger policy._

"Shall we track them?" Dorn asked impatiently.

"You two might - " Viconia's voice, a mixture of sultry and gloating, cut in as sharply as a knife. " - Wish to depart _immediately_."

And that was, of course, when the fronds covering the cave walls suddenly began to bulge. The next moment, with no time to blink, they were surrounded by gnolls and gnoll shamans. The clever illusion from the gnolls was dropped for good.

"Humans lock up gnolls with no food," said the hulking humanoid hyena with the largest number of beads around her neck. "We will eat you and leave."

Anqi gave her credit for expressing their grievance and its solution so succinctly. He backed into Dorn, reaching for his swords.

"Hold up," Anqi attempted. "You could try mashed millet instead of man-meat? Fruit salad rather than fresh sausages? Tofu in place of tendons?"

He sighed.

"It was worth a try."

"Your eloquence is legendary," Dorn grumbled, and decapitated a gnoll shaman with a single blow. Then came that familiar strange rush of a new soul slain for the pleasure of the demon Dorn Il-Khan served. Death was in the air, and Anqi himself was no stranger to it.

The gnoll spellcasters engaged the party outside the door, trying to break through Kagain's force and the spell-slinging from Viconia and Edwin. Anqi heard some familiar sounding syllables from Edwin, and his blood chilled.

"Not a bloody - "

A familiar _crackle_.

"Lightning bolt," Anqi concluded too late.

The arcane bolt of lightning in brilliant-sizzling-blue-white bounced off the cave walls, but Anqi and Dorn managed to duck just faster than the gnolls. It burnt through gnoll flesh and smelt too much like a pork barbecue to make Anqi entirely comfortable. He and Dorn fought for their lives on the ground, prey of desperate gnolls who'd do anything to survive and flee. Damn that bloody Red Wizard!

Two gnolls ducked behind the barrel of millet to protect themselves. Then the barrel became a battering ram, knocking Kagain down. Anqi cut one of the rushing gnolls down from behind, trusting Dorn to protect his own back. Off to the left, Viconia managed to save herself by perching above in a tall tree. She called for black shadowy webs to entangle the feet of the gnolls below her.

"Gnolls - " Edwin tossed a series of arcane bolts of force at them. "Are even less cromulent than the general run of inferior simians. I regretted dealing with them in the matter of that witch, and I regret it still m - _aargh_!"

As if tired of the wizard's insults, one of the gnolls emptied the barrel of millet mush over his head. It was very effective at stopping his spellcasting mid-flight. Anqi cut the gnoll down, but Edwin's expensive embroidered robes - that he never ceased to remind the party of their superior cut and use of real gold thread - were ruined with the stuff. He stood gaping and pop-eyed, shaking and dripping all over with wet mush the colour of cat sick and the consistency of pigeon droppings. Then he raised his hands.

"Dorn!" Anqi called. In just that one syllable, Dorn picked up on it. He body-slammed a gnoll shaman down and got himself out of the direct line of fire.

Fire. That was definitely Edwin's go-to spell when the wizard prima donna happened to be upset about something, Anqi knew. Assassins turning up before he'd had breakfast? Undercooked beef? Ruined fashion? Fire was always the only possible solution. Fire everywhere.

Anqi smelt that delicious pork smell coming from himself. He could not breathe. Then Dorn was on him, his armor blackened with soot and dented. He dragged Anqi away and stooped to finish off a lightly sautéed gnoll. Somewhere in the distance, Kagain swore, largely the same insults repeated over and over again. Viconia sat atop her high perch with a wry smile on her face.

Anqi's stomach fell as he looked wildly outward, across the way. Edwin's fire spread rapidly across dry summer grass. It lurched and arced toward the bandit encampment. Angry bandits were already emerging from their tents.

Anqi inwardly sighed. Playing bandit had been, very briefly, fun - for about the first ten minutes. Like many children, he'd had childhood dreams of banditry as a career, taking about fourth place after pirate, treasure hunter and highwayman, slightly higher on the list than secret lost prince. He'd now have to consign that dream to the dust-heap.

"Edwin!" he ordered. "Set the entire camp on fire. If you have enough left inside you to do that - "

The Red Wizard swelled up like a bullfrog who'd just seen his froggy mistress. "With a mage of my arcane potential, the answer will never be no. Eat fire, all you hairy monkeys! (Ah, I'll workshop the specific battlecries later.)"

The flames rapidly spread and Anqi of Candlekeep, dual wielding a pair of swords, carved a burnt and bloody trail.

They stood in the smoking ruins of what had once been a reasonably prosperous and attractive bandit camp, as far as bandit camps went in Anqi's total experience of one bandit camp. Viconia lowered the massive crossbow she'd been using to pick off the last few men, hobgoblins, and gnolls.

"I expect an excellent bath at the next opportunity, _tu'rilthiir_," she complained, shaking black soot out of her white hair. Kagain straightened from where he'd been prying the gold teeth from Taurgosz Khosann's mouth, appropriating the role of victor with extreme prejudice. Edwin, still sodden with millet, lowered his spellbook with a thoroughly gloating expression.

Anqi looked at the burnt-out ruin of the central hut, the one where the bandit leader had reigned from, where their maybe-legendary bandit king was supposed to stay when he came. Ordinary recruits were never allowed in that place. Anqi had already begun preparing to burgle it by slipping some boards loose on the outside. He'd seen an intriguing hint of locked chests in there. It might have held some answers.

And, since one of Edwin's fireballs had hit it dead centre, he'd never find those answers.

Dorn approached. Blood covered his face, but his smile was as broad as if he'd just been at a pleasure party. "You make impulsive commands, but I dare not complain when they bear the fruit of success. Here."

He shoved a singed wooden box at Anqi. The box was definitely not in the engagement-ring-box category, much as a man could occasionally dream unrealistic dreams.

"It occurred to me that if the camp was utterly destroyed, we would have little chance of finding the answers we seek," Dorn said. "Khosann received a dispatch via messenger this morning. I preserved it before the hut went down."

Anqi fiddled open the lock, feeling himself breathless in a way he hadn't been while they were fighting for their lives. He sorted through the papers within.

"We're lucky as a water-nymph that Khosann didn't have time to read this," Anqi said. One of them was a description of him: Anqi of Candlekeep, bounty price on his head going up by the day, eliminate on sight. Worse, they'd appended an updated list of Anqi's companions. Including Dorn.

Dorn snorted. "Khosann is illiterate and hated to admit it. Why did you think he kept Raemon so close to him? To serve him as his reader. Not all of us were raised in a library." There was a definite note of bitterness in Dorn's voice. The man spoke with a wicked eloquence, but Anqi had the impression he'd never been given a soft education like children of Candlekeep.

"There are pictures, too," Anqi said, flicking one to Dorn. He glanced with splendid scorn on an amateur's pencil sketch of a broadly built, handsome half-orc visage.

"They never get my nose right," Dorn complained. It was true - the real nose was much better looking. Anqi was almost getting hot under the collar again.

"I like your nose the way it is," Anqi offered.

It wasn't his best line. And it was cursedly doubtful Dorn had even heard it, striding magnificently away in his full armour to attend to the rest of the battle mopping-up. Anqi gave himself a moment to ogle his bold walk.

Anqi fingered a note toward the end of the bounty announcements. A man who signed himself Davaeorn was somewhere in the Cloakwood waiting for them, like a spider calling dangerous flies toward its web. They had their next stop before them, and much more killing to do.


End file.
